


we should shut that window we both left open

by wildeblackseoul



Series: rough patches turning into indelible scars [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Racebending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:19:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildeblackseoul/pseuds/wildeblackseoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the hales may have survived the flames, but the onslaught of memory is a treacherous adversary, indeed</p>
            </blockquote>





	we should shut that window we both left open

> _Find an anchor, something meaningful to you. Bind yourself to it, keep the human side in control._

01.

The first night as Alpha, she couldn’t stop shaking, her lungs constricting, fingers clawing at her chest.

She remembers faintly of these sorts of incidents, when the change of power is more than a bleed through of red eyes and heavy growling, when the change wiped you clean of Before and left you forged as After. Her heart thundered against her ribcage, weighing heavily between bones stretching and muscles and veins flexing sporadically. Through the crimson haze fogging her senses, Laura sees Derek hunched over her, blue eyes burning past the darkness of the cheap motel room; it hurts to watch, really.

She wants to gouge his eyes out and swallow them whole. Then she wouldn’t have to be reminded every day and every night of this unrepentant nightmare he - _no_ , whoever lit the match that rendered pack as burnt wood and ash, a pile of melting flesh and a barely alive uncle left in the basement - flung them in.

Suddenly her vision spirals, and she screams as tufts of hair rise from the pores of her skin and her fangs elongate in her mouth, piercing her tongue. Blood is blood and never tastes like copper; just raw, leaves you aching for _moremoremore_.

Peripherally she notices two hands gripping her down by the shoulders, and she snaps her jaws, satisfied when her mouth meets flesh. But the hands are unrelenting and continue to push her back on the carpeted floor, and it reeks of mold and week-old semen and cleaning product. She releases Derek’s shoulder, licks the wounds, as the skin knits itself; a low whimper escapes from her throat, apology laced in its timbre.

Derek chuckles halfheartedly, eyebrows furrowed, and nudges her into a more comfortable position. “It’s okay, sis,” he says; his quiet voice cuts through the pain rippling through her entire body. She shuts her eyes tightly, the taste of bitter blood still permeating her taste buds. Silence is fleeting, as her heartbeat slows to match the one above her.

“ _Just let go_.”

And she can’t help but oblige.

\--

02.

Sometimes Laura stays in her wolf form because she doesn’t have the energy left in her to shift back, and Derek will shake his head at her from his perch on the bed. Then he’ll pat the space next to him and shrug off his jacket, leaving him in the jeans he’s been wearing for a week without a wash and a shirt Laura can’t remember when it was washed last. (They’d have to hit the laundromat in the morning.) She crinkles her nose, as if expressing her disgust, but pads over to the bed and hops on it. Derek let’s out a soft chuckle, swallows it too quickly, and reaches out to wrap his fingers in her pelt. Instinctively Laura follows the motion until she has her head tucked into the crook of his arm, tail thumping against the sheets.

“Go to sleep,” Derek says, reaching behind him to shut the lights. His eyes gleam blue in the darkness before settling in their hazel-green hue.

She yips at the loss of his hand, paws at his leg, which makes him chuckle again, this time not stopping himself. _There’s my pup_ , her wolf supplies, the thought tender, and it cloaks her in so much reassurance that things aren’t completely lost. (She tries not to dwell on that for too long.)

The fingers return, tangling in the short hairs, and Laura lets out a wet huff. Derek nuzzles against her, whispers goodnight, and falls asleep in seconds.

(She watches him sleep for an hour; her eyes are so heavy, ears drooping to her skull. She licks his face once and plasters her furry body to him, her tail draped over his bent knee. The rise and fall of his chest and the hand buried in her pelt lull her to sleep.)

\--

03.

“I miss your old eyes,” Derek mutters into her shoulder one night. The summer heat is overbearing in the motel room, the fan shakily whirling above them doing nothing to stifle it. It’s background noise compared to the slow and steady rhythm echoing in Laura’s ears. She curls herself more into Derek, most of her covering him, his arm thrown over her hip, grip loose but secured. She squeezes him close, inhales, and falls asleep to his heartbeat.

(She misses her blue eyes, too, but she doesn’t tell Derek that, because she knows that his jaw would tighten, and the indelible sadness would be stark across his features.)

(They used to say Laura looked too much like her mother whenever the pack went for their family runs in the woods. _It’s the eyes_ , they would say, and Laura now can’t help but cry against her brother’s neck that night.)

**Author's Note:**

> just snippets related to a lengthy work in progress. part of the teen wolf rewrite, where [racebending galore occurs](http://blackdalsoon.tumblr.com/post/32788563286/)


End file.
